


Drunk On One Glass Of You

by dinosaursmate



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Art Harry, Football Captain Louis, Liberal Amounts Of Swearing, M/M, No Smut, and drunken antics, but I thought I'd tag it just in case, it's very brief and only implied, the ziam is VERY VERY BRIEF and probably not even worth tagging, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaursmate/pseuds/dinosaursmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I could never have finished this bloody thing without your help.” Harry sighed, brow furrowed, clutching his copy of the yearbook to his chest. “Thank you, Lou. You’re an awesome friend.”</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re going on holiday.” Louis said, leaning against the wall of the main school building, looking out over the playground towards the art and science building. “We’re not even getting our last summer together. The five of us, I mean.”</p><p>“You’ll have a great time with the boys.” Harry said, slapping Louis on the back before loosely draping an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t want me around, anyway.”</p><p>Louis looked at Harry, frowning.</p><p>“I want you around the most.”<br/>-<br/>A High School AU where Louis is the captain of the football team, Harry’s the art geek in charge of the yearbook, and they are NOT a couple, even if Zayn tells everyone they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk On One Glass Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiwiTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiTattoo/gifts).



> This was hard to come up with at first but ended up being a fun little fic to write!
> 
> Eternally grateful for my betas, [Jacky](http://dimpled-halo.tumblr.com/) and [Steph](http://mommotommo.tumblr.com/). This literally wouldn't have turned out half as good if both of you hadn't given me such amazing feedback, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> PanLarrie, I hope this delivers, I know you were probably looking for a bit more angst but I hope this is okay!

“Come _ on _ Louis.” Liam sighed. “Focus.”

Louis stopped in his tracks, right foot drawn back. He let it slump down to the ground.

“Excuse me, Liam.” He said, hands on hips. “ _ You  _ don’t get to tell  _ me _ what to do.”

“I’m your friend and teammate. I just want you to be the best you can be.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired.”

Liam rolled his eyes, tugging at his gloves. 

“Come on, Louis. Three more goals and we can go.”

“If you’re after my captaincy, Liam, you’re out of luck.”

“Actually, Louis, I’m really hungry and would like to get off this bloody pitch sometime before midnight.”

Louis rolled his eyes petulantly. He’d promised to buy Liam’s dinner if he played goalie for an hour so Louis could practise shooting penalties but he’d been awful all afternoon. And it’s not like Liam was brilliant in goal, either. Louis could hold his hands up and admit the fault was all on him.

Louis jumped up and down on the spot a few times, swinging his leg back and kicking the ball hard, just about evading Liam and planting it firmly in the top right corner of the net.

“That’s better.” Liam smirked.

\---

Zayn was glaring. Zayn was glaring and Louis suffered a shiver from… fear? Of course, Zayn was always glaring, but he did NOT look impressed. Louis hid behind Liam.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Zayn drawled as Liam slid into the booth opposite the other three boys, Louis coyly following him.

Liam raised his eyebrows, pointedly turning to look at Louis.

“Got a bit carried away on the pitch.” Louis shrugged, picking at his nails. “Lost track of time.”

Niall snorted and Louis shot him a glare.

“We would’ve ordered for you,” Harry said, “But no one could remember Liam’s order.”

“That’s really charming lads, thanks.”

Louis stared at Niall as he ordered to make sure he ordered chicken not beef; beef made him sluggish and Niall needed to be on fire on the pitch. Okay, so maybe Louis was a tyrant as a captain but it paid off; they were currently top of the Regional League.

“You two coming to our match Saturday?” 

“Saturday?” Harry whined. “Why does it have to be on a Saturday?”

Louis rolled his eyes.

“God, fine, don’t come.” Louis mumbled. “Zayn?”

“Well, I start work at 2, so-”

“The game’s at 10am.”

Zayn and Harry exchanged a sly smirk, Zayn rolling his eyes and shrugging. 

“Fine.”

\---

Zayn and Harry had actually never missed a home game if they could help it, and they always arrived early so they could sit close enough that their cheers and jeers could be heard. Hearing Harry shouting abuse at him when he fucked up spurred Louis on no end. 

They drew 2-2 with whatever team they played - Macclesfield was their biggest rival and if they weren’t playing Macclesfield, Louis didn’t bother to pay attention to who the other team was. 

“Fuck.” Louis mumbled as they got back into the changing rooms. “We should’ve won that.”

“Don’t freak out.” Niall scoffed. “They were all huge. Much bigger than us.”

“That shouldn’t matter, Niall, if it did you wouldn’t be here would you?”

“Stop being an arsehole.” Liam told Louis. “I actually think Niall was man-of-the-match material in that game.”

“Thanks, Li.”

Louis stormed into the showers, rolling his eyes. He knew he got testy after a game, even if they’d won. But it was because, being the captain, his job was to find the flaws in order to iron them out. He was a man who spoke his mind though, and maybe that was what rubbed the boys the wrong way. He sighed, frustrated with himself if he was honest, as the other boys started filing into the showers.

“Sorry, Niall.” He sighed, rinsing himself under the warm spray. “Liam’s right, you played brilliantly today.”

“Oh, Lou, don’t worry. I’m used to your mood swings.”

“Oi!” Louis slapped a wet hand onto Niall’s arm, smirking; he wrapped a towel round his waist and shook the water from his hair. “Alright, I’m still sorry though.”

“It’s okay, Tommo.” Niall reassured.

“It won’t happen again.” Louis said over his shoulder as he left the showers.

“Yeah, right!” Niall called after him.

\---

“Do you think I’m too strict with the boys?”

Harry looked up at Louis, smirking before letting out a small laugh.

“Is that a serious question?” Harry grinned back down at his lunch.

“I just wanna stay on top, you know? We’re the best, and I need to prove it.” 

“You can do it without being mean.” Harry said darkly, before his face split into a grin.

Louis gasped indignantly, slapping him on the arm.

“Look, Lou. You just need to find that balance between being firm and being nice. You don’t need to be one or the other, you know.”

Louis rolled his eyes childishly.

“I suppose.”

“I bet it’ll be really difficult for you to be nicer, isn’t it?!” Harry grinned widely.

“Shut up, Harry.” Louis scolded pathetically as he broke into a grin himself, standing up and pushing his chair in. “I’m perfectly capable of being nice.”

“Yeah!” Harry scoffed sarcastically, raising to his feet also. He slapped Louis on the forearm playfully, long legs walking towards the exit, striding ahead of Louis. Louis stalked out of the canteen as Harry held the door for him, turning to him with his arms folded.

“Oh, Harry…” Louis smiled sweetly and batted his eyelashes. “I feel like my calves are cramping. Will you come over after school and give me a massage?”

“I can’t, sorry.” Harry shrugged. “Yearbook committee meetings start today.”

“That’s not fair!” Louis whined. “I mean, my calves, it’s just…”

“The football team will be getting a double page spread.” Harry offered. “And being captain, you’ll probably have a bigger picture…”

“Oh! Well, if you need to go off and sort that out, I’m not gonna stand in your way.”

Harry rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Zayn is doing all the art for it. It’s gonna be  _ sick. _ ”

“Harry!”

The two boys turned towards the female voice, seeing a small girl jogging up to them.

“Hi, Jade.”

“Harry.” She nodded in greeting. “Are you still coming to my party on Saturday?”

“Oh, erm…” Harry scratched his forehead. “Where is it again?”

“We’re going ice skating.” Jade stared at him pointedly. “We had a conversation about it last week, Harry.”

“Oh.” Harry grinned sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Yeah, course. Yeah I should be able to make it.”

“Fab! Um, are you Louis?”The girl grinned, pointing at Louis.

“Um, yeah, last time I checked!”

Harry rolled his eyes so hard, they could easily have fallen out.

“I’ve heard all about you, you know.” She nodded. “I’m Jade, one of Perrie’s friends.”

“Oh, right.” Louis smiled politely. 

“Reckon you two will win cutest couple.” Jade nodded earnestly, looking from Louis to Harry and back again. “Everyone else is so full of drama, and-”

“We’re not a couple, Jade.” Harry deadpanned. “Just friends.”

“Oh, I thought…”

“It’s a common mistake.” Louis reassured her, shrugging indifferently. 

“I’m sure Zayn said you were.”

“Well, if he did, Zayn and I will need to have words.” Louis laughed.

“Happens all the time.” Harry smiled charmingly to a worried looking Jade. “Louis  _ hates _ it. Thinks I hold him back from all the men falling at his feet.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to maths.” Louis mumbled, shooting Harry a glare before skulking off.

\---

Louis woke up in the night, screaming in agony from a cramp in his left calf. He mumbled profanities under his breath as he stretched it out, most of which were directed at Harry bloody Styles. What a selfish man he was.

When he got to school that morning, Liam frowned at him, and Louis scowled back.

“‘Ey up, you look tired.”

“Shut up, Payno.” Louis sighed. “I  _ am _ tired.”

“Why?” Harry asked, mouth full of banana, making Louis’ stomach turn.

“Because, Harry!” He said loudly. “I got cramp in the night.”

Harry held his palm out to Louis as if to tell him to wait; he swallowed his mouthful of banana before cackling loudly, eyes dancing as they narrowed at Louis.

“It’s not funny, Harry!” Louis sighed impatiently. “It took me forty-five minutes to stretch it out enough to sleep.”

“Aww, Lou.” Harry said, still laughing slightly and rubbing Louis’ shoulder. “I’ll come round tonight, okay?”

“Some of us have practice tonight.” Louis said.

“Well, ring me when you’re done.”

“When you’re both quite finished…” Niall rolled his eyes. “I swear, you two are such a married couple.”

“Shut up!” Louis snapped. “Oh - that reminds me.”

He turned slowly to glare at Zayn who was leaning against the wall, smoking.

“What did I do?” Zayn raised his eyebrows.

“Why did that Jade girl say that you told her me and Harry are a couple?”

“Oh.” Zayn pulled an ‘oops’ face, before smirking. “I was stoned and I was chatting shit, man.”

“That’s great, Zayn. Thanks.”

“Oh…” Harry laughed, slipping his arms around Louis’ waist from behind and squeezing him close. “Don’t be so touchy, Louis. Is it really  _ that _ bad if people think we’re together?”

Louis sighed. Harry was his friend,  _ obviously,  _ and he supposed it didn’t matter if people thought they were a couple. But… they weren’t. That’s all. He wasn’t  _ touchy  _ about it,  _ God _ . He was  _ used _ to it by now, why would he be touchy?!

At lunchtime he strolled past the art room, stopping when he saw his friends inside. He opened the door and found Zayn absolutely covered in paint. Harry had his elbow propped on Zayn’s shoulder, staring with deep thought at the canvas in front of them both.

“What’s happening, lads?”

“I’m trying to decipher the message Zayn’s trying to put across with this painting he did in class.” Harry mumbled.

Louis frowned.

“You know... that’s Zayn right in front of you. Call me old fashioned, but try asking him?”

“Shut up, Lou. Come here, take a look.”

Louis stepped into the room, standing behind Harry. To be honest, he didn’t know what the fuck he was looking at. It seemed nice, though; there was a lot of green and white, putting Louis in mind of toothpaste. It was all very angular and confusing and his head was hurting.

“You two are weird. You coming to lunch?”

“No, Louis, we’re having an artistic moment here.” Harry sighed impatiently.

Louis shook his head and made his way to the canteen. He threw himself down at the table with Liam and Niall.

“What’s with you?”

“Nothing! I’m hungry.”

“If you’re going to be moody, me and Liam are just gonna continue our conversation.”

“Oh, be my guest!” Louis scowled. “And I’m not moody.”

Niall scoffed, turning his attention back to Liam. Louis pulled his sandwiches out of his bag and half-listened to the boys talk strategy for the match on Thursday. They were playing an away game at some school about an hour away, and Louis was looking forward to getting away from lessons for the afternoon. He sometimes suspected it was the only reason Niall joined up to the football team. Louis was glad; Niall was easily one of the best players he’d seen on the team.

Louis walked home after practice and found Harry already there, helping Louis’ mum cook dinner.

“Oi! What is this?!” Louis walked into the kitchen, linking his arm in his mum’s and kissing her on the cheek. “Tryin’ to steal my bloody mother, Styles?”

“Language.” Louis’ mum muttered. “Harry’s just being a sweetheart and helping me. Almost like the son I never had.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Louis said sarcastically. “Well, mind if I borrow your ‘son’?”

Louis snatched Harry up by the wrist; they walked upstairs and Louis made no hesitation as he pulled his school trousers off and laid down on the bed on his front, slipping his hands under his pillow.

“You save my life, Harry, you really do.” He said, lifting his feet and flexing his calves coaxingly.

“One day I’ll work out why I bother.” Harry muttered as he sat down, back against the wall and letting Louis drop his legs into his lap.

“It’s because I’m your favourite!” Louis replied in a sing-song voice. “And because this gives you an excuse to come round my house, flirt with my mum and eat all her food.”

“I  _ am _ the best at flirting with mums.” Harry said contemplatively as he started to rub Louis’ nearest calf. 

“You’re shameless.” Louis sighed; Harry squeezed Louis’ calf a little too hard and he yelped.

“So how’s Liam’s ankle injury?”

“He had to go and see a physio.” Louis sighed. “We tried him in goal but aside from being bigger than most of us, he can’t really save. I think he’s doing really well, considering. I mean you couldn’t tell in the game the other day? Could you?”

“No.”

“Might have to put him on the bench for bigger games, though. That won’t go down well.” Louis chewed the inside of his cheek contemplatively. “Hey, Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Why do you think everybody thinks we’re a couple?”

“Probably because we argue so much.”

Louis craned his head around to look at Harry; they both started laughing.

“We’ve been friends a long time.” Harry continued, shrugging and moving his hands upwards to massage Louis’ hamstring. “We’re close, you’ve gotta see why people think it.”

“I suppose.”

“I mean- I  _ am _ rubbing your thigh, for god’s sake.”

Louis hummed out a small laugh.

“In fact, I think I’m gonna have to start charging you for these massages one of these days.” Harry grinned, finishing up his calves and hamstrings, slapping the back of his knee and prompting Louis to move off of him.

Louis scoffed in indignation, smiling to himself when he stood up and noticed how much better his legs felt. Harry seriously gave the best massages - the boy had magic fingers and when they weren’t covered in paint or gesticulating wildly - telling some ‘hilarious’ story that Louis found perplexing - they worked wonders on Louis’ muscles and anytime he had some kind of football related injury or strain, he knew he could count on Harry.

“You don’t  _ really _ think the rumours about us hold you back, do you?” Harry asked him, his brow furrowed worriedly, chewing his bottom lip.

“Nah.” Louis shrugged. “I haven’t got time for relationships, anyway. I suppose in a way, you’re acting like a great buffer for me. Keeping the temptation at arm’s length.”

“Oh.” Harry smiled sarcastically, folding his arms and drawing his knees in. “Good! Glad I could help!”

“Get your feet off my bed.” Louis demanded. “Let’s go see if dinner’s ready.”

\---

Things were getting weird. Not only had two more people told Louis that Zayn had told them he and Harry were a couple (he was  _ so _ in for it), but he’d seen Harry and Zayn arguing at lunch. They were all about to go off to University; their little group was about to be torn apart, and Louis was anxious about any of them parting on sour terms. He’d just have to get involved, get in the middle of it and make sure they made up. 

“None of your business.” Harry told Louis flatly when he asked him what they’d been arguing about. “Drop it, Louis.”

“But, Harry-”

“I have to go to a Yearbook meeting.”

“It’s lunchtime.”

“We’re very busy.” Harry sighed. “I’m gonna need you to come in at some point and look over the layout for the team’s page. Also, we’ll need biographies for each team member.”

“Sure, yeah…” Louis said, sighing when he realised he might as well drop the Zayn thing for now. Once Harry started banging on about the yearbook, there was no shutting him up. “I’ll get them all to write a blurb.”

Harry scoffed.

“Please, please proofread them. I don’t have time to double check your team’s grammar, and spelling, and ability to form sentences…”

“Oi.” Louis elbowed him in the ribs. “Some of my team are the best academics in the school.”

“You mean yourself, don’t you?” Harry said, folding his arms and raising his eyebrows. “Oh, and Niall’s pretty clever.”

“Well, you measure intelligence in how much paint someone can smear on a piece of paper in the space of an hour-long lesson.”

“You should try and tap into your creative side, Louis.” Harry told him.

“There’s a reason I didn’t take art, Haz. No, I’m much better suited to sport, thank you very much.”

“Everyone has  _ some _ creativity, Louis.” Harry nudged him. “In fact, I’ve got a great idea! Come to the art room tomorrow lunchtime, we’ll have some fun with paint.”

“Harry…”

“Please!” Harry grinned cheesily. “For me?”

\---

Louis didn’t know why he’d even listened to Harry but when he walked into the classroom, he wanted to walk straight back out. He didn’t get the opportunity; Harry appeared from nowhere, shoving a small paintbrush in his hand and closed the door with a thud.

“Just throw some paint around.” He told Louis patiently. “Just put your feelings onto the paper.”

He glared at Harry disbelievingly. His feelings?! Let’s see - well, he had a bit of indigestion from eating his lunch quicker than usual. He felt about 5% mad at Harry for making him paint. Hm, what else? Harry put his hands on Louis’ shoulders, giving a squeeze of encouragement, and Louis felt a surge of fondness.

“There’s no purple.” He complained.

“Mix blue and red, Lou.” Harry sighed. “I’m gonna go get a sandwich, I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t wreck the place.”

Louis rolled his eyes, dipping his brush aggressively into the paint.

When Harry returned, Louis was lazily running a brush over the paper, his free hand supporting his cheek, elbow on the corner of the paper, keeping it still.

“Bored?” Harry laughed.

Louis just shrugged, glancing down at the paper. It looked like something one of his little sisters had painted. In fact, was this a direct replica of the painting currently on the fridge?!

Harry glanced over his shoulder and Louis felt himself flush red.

“It’s interesting.” Harry said. Louis turned a deeper shade. “Really interesting.”

“Yeah, what’s that supposed to mean?!” He snapped, trying not to sound as insecure as he felt. “I was just messing about.”

He glared down at the paper, sighing. What was interesting about this? He’d just sloshed thick, red jagged lines onto the paper and filled between them with a rich purple. They were regal colours, no? Okay, so maybe Louis had made Harry think he was a king. Yeah, that’d do.  _ No, _ he frowned to himself, the painting kind of looked like the pits of hell. That explained the mysterious tone when Harry said ‘interesting’. He probably thought Louis was hiding some kind of dark, evil side. Who knows? Who cares?!

“I’m going to have a kickabout.” Louis announced, huffing inwardly and scrambling to his feet. 

“Louis, wait.”

Louis stopped. He turned around and Harry opened his mouth as if to speak; Louis ignored him, pointing the disastrous painting, picking it up by the corner and holding it out to him.

“You want this? You can just put it among all your other pretentious art, you won’t know the difference.”

Harry snorted.

“So…” He frowned at Louis’ painting, tilting his head. “What made you pick those colours?”

“I don’t know!” Louis said defensively. “I think red and purple look nice together. I just like them, god.”

“No need to be so uptight.” Harry smirked. “I was just asking. Anyway, it’s very you.”

Louis eyed him suspiciously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you act very red sometimes. Like the way you’re getting all defensive and aggressive right now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“And,” Harry laughed at Louis proving his point, “purple’s very spiritual, you know? Passionate and clever.”

Louis cracked a small smile.

“Okay…”

“And very dramatic.” Harry nodded, laughing through his words.

“Me?!” Louis gasped, hand on his chest indignantly. “Dramatic?!”

Harry grinned, his cheek dimpling. The door opened before he could reply and they both turned to look. It was Zayn.

“What you two up to in here?” He asked suspiciously.

“Louis’ been creating a masterpiece.”

Harry snatched the painting from Louis and held it up for Zayn’s inspection. Zayn frowned at it for a few seconds before looking up at Louis and letting out a small laugh.

“It’s curious, mate!”

“What?!” Louis sighed, exasperated.

Zayn snatched the painting from Harry, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.

“This is really interesting.” Zayn mumbled. “Sort of… dark and deep and passionate. And powerful. And frantic.”

“Frantic, you what?” Louis frowned. “Oh, I’ve had enough of all this.” 

Louis turned on his heel, walking towards the door with a dismissive wave of his hand in farewell.

“Aren’t you taking this?” Zayn asked.

“That belongs to Harry.”

\---

Louis was staying well away from paint. His afternoon lessons were spent trying to get paint from his palms and under his nails. No wonder Zayn was always covered in the bloody stuff. Harry tried to get him to come back to the art room but frankly, Louis would rather play football, or eat lunch, or do anything other than paint more weird pictures for Harry to ponder over.

A week later, the football team were preparing for the final match of the season. They were still top of the league but they had to win in the final to stay there. Everything was at stake; the title, the glory, Louis’ pride. They were about to graduate and this would be their legacy.  _ Louis’ _ legacy.

He tried his very best to be friendly but firm with the team. It felt utterly wrong but Harry’s urges to try spurred Louis on, and the team seemed to be responding. He slipped into his old ways every now and then but overall, the plan was working and the team were looking better than ever. 

Louis went in search of Harry and found him in the IT classroom, furiously tapping away at a computer.

“What you doing?” Louis asked in an obnoxious voice.

“Yearbook stuff.” Harry mumbled. “I don’t have time for your antics, okay?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Louis gasped dramatically. “You coming to Niall’s on Saturday?”

“No, I’m busy.”

“Harry, it’s our last big hurrah before we all part ways.”

“I’m busy.”

Louis grabbed the back of Harry’s chair, yanking it backwards and pulling Harry away from the computer. Harry huffed with irritation as Louis slipped an arm around his neck and plonked himself onto his lap.

“Louis!” Harry whined but wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, clasping his fingers together. “I have so much to do.”

“I’m not getting off you until you agree to come to Niall’s.”

“Okay, but what you’re actually doing is slowing me down. Making my workload worse and every second you keep me from my work, the less likely I’ll be to make it.”

“Oh, shut up, Harry.” Louis slapped him on the chest. “You’re coming to Niall’s.”

Harry shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes.

“I’m gonna miss your curly hair, you know.” Louis said quietly.

“Just my hair?”

“Mmhmm.” Louis smiled sweetly, sticking his nose into Harry’s curls and inhaling the smell of his shampoo. 

“And you two wonder why people think you’re a couple.” Niall said, walking into the room shaking his head.

“Harry said he’s not coming to your party!”

“He fuckin’ is!”

“I don’t have time!” Harry growled, finally pushing Louis off his lap and pulling himself in close to the computer again. “Lou, you haven’t even given me the team bios. Why don’t you just sit down and write them yourself?”

“Oh!” Niall said, rustling around in his pocket. “I’ve got the team pictures here… somewhere….”

He finally pulled out a USB stick, chucking it over at Harry and hitting him in the back of the head, earning himself a dark glare.

“You have to come.” Louis said quietly to Harry. “How can you not?”

“If you help me by writing your team’s bios, I’ll be a lot closer to being able to. Okay?”

Louis gave him a tight-lipped smile, sitting down at the computer next to him.

“Okay.”

\---

Louis took the first step forward, leading his team out onto the pitch. He grabbed Liam and Niall and pulled them in for a hug.

“This will be the last time all three of us play together.” Louis sighed. “On the same team, that is.” He smirked.

“Good luck, Lou.” Liam said earnestly. “Break a leg, Niall. And that’s just a saying, okay, please don’t actually break anything.”

“We’ll be going onto bigger and better things,” Louis sighed, “but we’ll always be teammates, in here.” He placed his palm over his own heart before placing it over Niall’s and then Liam’s.  

“God, Tommo. You’re never this emotional.” Niall scoffed. “Don’t bloody cry on us.”

“Well, I’m gonna miss this. I love you two.”

The three of them had a sweet, emotional group hug before the referee impatiently called Louis over for the coin toss.

“Let’s fucking win this.” Louis laughed to his boys.

The match went by in a blur, Louis managing to stay sharply focused. He shot for the goal shortly before halftime and hit the post, just about hearing the shocking barrage of insults from Harry in the stands. He smirked, glancing up in his direction and taking a deep breath. If anything would spur him on to score, it was Harry shouting at him for a “shitty attempt” and “fucking crap technique”. Like Harry would know anything about bloody football technique.

The other team’s keeper was good. The team themselves were no Macclesfield but the keeper was very, very good and Louis was absolutely determined to sink a goal past him. 

Niall fouled a defender and conceded a free kick. He became so angry, swearing at the referee and ended up earning himself a yellow card. 

“Niall!” Louis jogged up to him. “This isn’t the time to mess about!”

“Sorry, Tommo. But that guy did that on purpose.”

“Just keep your cool, Ni. We can’t have you sent off, mate.”

Liam was brought on for the last twenty minutes, the score still 0-0. As they trundled along towards the ninety-minute mark, Louis was struggling to keep a level head. He did NOT want to go into extra time and he absolutely did not want to go to penalties. Not faced with  _ that _ goalkeeper.

At the 87th minute, Liam won the ball, dodging three huge men to pass the ball to Louis. The angle was all off; there was no way he’d curve the ball enough to get it in, at least not past that arsehole blocking the net.

“ _ Fucking shoot, you bloody idiot. _ ”

Harry’s distant shout was music to Louis’ ears; he drew his left leg back and kicked, letting his instinct take over and as the ball hurtled towards the net. Everything slowed as Louis sharply inhaled; the ball inched its way past the goalkeeper, slapping into the back of the net, and Louis fell to his knees with his arms thrown in the air. 

And then sweaty, dirty male bodies were piling on top of him and knocking the air out of him. If he wasn’t so elated he’d be freaking out, but all he could think was -  _ we’ve won. We’ve won the fucking league. I’m about to graduate having captained the team that won the league. _

Of course, they all had to get up and finish the rest of the match. The entire team just went into defensive mode, not letting the ball go anywhere near the opposing goal. When the fulltime whistle blew, Louis found himself at first in the middle of a huge huddle, before yelping as he was lifted off his feet, being carried on the shoulders of his proud team.

The next ten minutes passed in a blur, and when Louis finally came to his senses he was being clutched tightly by Harry, the other four loosely hugging him.

“You fucking did it!” Niall gushed, shouting unnecessarily. 

“Well, I…” He huffed a bit to catch his breath. “I didn’t do it on my own, did I?”

Harry pulled him away, still clutching at his arms and smiling so inanely that his dimple threatened to suck the whole universe in like a black hole, his big teeth exposed and bringing Harry to absolute maximum geekiness.

“Lou!” He pulled Louis into a hug again, sighing quietly into his ear. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Louis felt his eyes moisten - no, no, no. This was an amazing, momentous occasion but there was no way he was going to cry. Louis pulled away from the boys, looking around him. They were all still on the edge of the pitch, the stands almost completely cleared and the pitch scattered with all sorts of people. The competing team had already left.

“I’m going to the toilet.” Louis announced, jogging off before anyone could process what he’d said. He made his way swiftly to the gents, locking himself in a cubicle and sitting down, clutching at his head and just soaking up the silence, willing himself to come to terms with what just happened.

He could graduate a happy man, now. He hadn’t let himself down, hadn’t let his team down. He stood up, taking a deep breath. Football was  _ done _ (Until university, of course). He found his friends, who had moved their loud celebration into the school forecourt. The elation was infectious.

\---

It wasn’t a party, as such. Niall was plating up some party food when Louis arrived, seeing Zayn and Liam in the garden smoking and giggling about something. 

“Harry not here yet?”

“He’s still saying he’s not coming.”

“He’ll be here.” Louis nodded confidently. 

“Well, most of the team are coming. I invited some of Zayn and Harry’s arty farty friends too just to balance it out.” Niall stated.

“You invited arty introverts to a party?”

“It’s not a party.” Niall shook his head insistently. “Don’t say that. Anyway I’m banking on like, half the people not turning up. My mum won’t be happy if we get too rowdy.”

“No chance of that if you invited a bunch of geeks.”

“Oi.” Zayn said as he came back into the house. “You talking about my mates?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, when’s Harry getting here?”

“He’s not coming.”

“He bloody is!”

“He’s not, mate.”

Louis huffed, rolling his eyes and grabbing a can of beer.

\---

An hour and a bit later, Louis’ head was swimming with alcohol. He wasn’t drunk as such, although the buzzing in his veins told him he’d definitely be pretty close in another couple of beers. He watched Liam flirt with Zayn -  _ oh boy, here we go _ \- before deciding to pull his phone out of his pocket and dial Harry.

“Where the hell are you?”

_ “I’m not coming, Lou. I’m so busy.” _

“Harry, look, this is as important as everything else. I will help you with the yearbook on Monday, will you PLEASE come?”

“Louis, I can’t. I have so much to-”

Louis abruptly hung up. He stormed out of the living room, squeezing past a couple of nervous-looking art students clutching beers and heading out of the door. He hit the warm, June air and shivered, shaking his arms out and turning right. 

He walked with purpose towards Harry’s house, remembering after a couple of minutes how far away it was. By the time he got there, he was strolling down the street covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He rang the doorbell, distantly wondering if Harry would let him use the toilet even if he was inevitably annoyed at being disturbed.

“Louis, what are you doing here?” Harry sighed, a touch of impatience in his voice.

“I need a wee.”

Harry frowned, stepping aside and Louis dashed up the stairs. Once he was once again comfortable, Louis found Harry in his bedroom, typing away at the computer.

“Harry.” Louis started, his tone a lot softer than he’d originally intended. “I get that the yearbook is important to you, but you have a whole team of helpers, and I told you, now football’s finished I have some free time. I’ll help you out. Just please, please come to Niall’s.”

Harry stopped typing, turning his chair to face Louis but looking down at the carpet.

“Lou, I just...” Harry sighed heavily, hesitating.

“Is there another reason you don’t wanna come?” Louis asked suspiciously. He watched as Harry ever so slightly flinched. So he was right. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry sighed, standing up. “You’re right. I should come. Even if it’s just for Niall.”

“Are you sure?” Louis frowned, unsure.

“Yeah. Sorry. Let’s go.”

“You gonna change?” Louis asked, eyeing Harry’s plain white t-shirt with a pizza stain down the front and track shorts. 

“You wanna give me time to change my mind?!”

“No.” Louis said quickly. “Let’s go.”

“Please don’t let me get too drunk.” Harry sighed. “I’m not in the mood to do anything stupid tonight.”

\---

Harry seemed to get really drunk really quickly and Louis was slightly concerned about him, not sure what his problem was but knowing drinking probably was not the answer. He stuck to his side all night, and when the non-party started to wind down, the five friends were the only ones left and they all laid outside on Niall’s lawn, staring up to the sky.

“I got into Manchester.” Niall finally announced.

“What?!” Louis said, sitting up. “We’re going to Uni together?! When were you gonna tell me?!”

“Now, obviously.”

Louis rolled his eyes, smiling and high-fiving Niall.

“Harry and Liam going off to Exeter, us two going to Manchester, sick.” Louis sighed. “Zayn, you had to ruin it.”

“Well, Edinburgh’s great for art.” Zayn shrugged. “And Dennis is going there, too. He was like a sixth member of our group.”

The whole group burst out laughing.

“Who the bloody hell is Dennis?!” Niall laughed.

“You were talking to him for like, twenty minutes tonight.” Harry said.

Louis snorted with laughter, elbowing Harry in acknowledgement. He rested his hand down by his hip, brushing Harry’s knuckles; Harry linked their fingers together and somewhere in Louis’ intoxicated brain, he found it unusual and curious.

“I’m going home.” Liam announced. “Come on, Zayn.”

Harry, Louis and Niall all turned to stare at him.

“I’m staying at Liam’s tonight.” Zayn said innocently. “It’s too far to walk to mine.”

“You could’ve stayed here.” Niall snorted.

“Oh, but, Liam’s mum makes these eggs in the mornings, right, and-”

“Just go.” Louis groaned.

They said their goodbyes and Niall walked them out. When he didn’t return, Louis turned over to his front, breaking Harry’s grip on his hand. He watched Harry’s face for a second before talking.

“What have you and Zayn been arguing about?”

“We’ve made up.” Harry said flatly.

“But-”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” He mumbled like a child. “It’s personal.”

Louis’ heart gave a jump. He actually felt  _ offended _ ; maybe even a little jealous. Sometimes,  _ sometimes,  _ when Louis was drunk or feeling fragile, it hurt his feelings a little that Harry considered Zayn his best mate when Louis had always considered Harry his. He looked at Harry, who was chewing on his bottom lip.

“Harry, you can tell me anything. You know that.”

Harry brought his arms up to his chest and folded them defensively.

“Hm.”

“Harry.” Louis said softly, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s arm. “If something’s going on-”

“Nothing is going on.” Harry grumbled. “I told you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Louis said simply, shrugging and rolling over to lay on his back once again. He glanced sideways at Harry. 

“It’s about you.” Harry said, mumbling barely above a whisper. 

Louis had strained to hear him, and so wiggled in closer.

“ _ What _ about me?”

Harry sat up, clutching his knees to his chest. Louis stared at his back, confused.

“I was arguing with Zayn for telling people we were a couple.”

“Oh.” Louis said. “Okay. Why are you being weird about telling me that, Haz?”

Harry sighed, glancing back at Louis before laying back down.

“He’s interfering.” Harry replied with a slight whine in his voice. “He thinks he’s being helpful.”

Louis was so lost. He closed his eyes and sighed. There was a cool breeze, alleviating some of the mugginess of the night; it was a welcome feeling on his damp forehead. He smiled to himself as he heard Harry shift next to him.

“I have to tell you something.” Harry suddenly spoke quickly, a rare occurrence. “I love you.”

Louis slowly opened his eyes, blinking around him in confusion and startling slightly when he realised Harry was close to him, propping his head up on his palm and leaning over Louis’ face.

“What?” Louis mumbled, still very confused. He thought Harry had said-

“I love you.” Harry repeated, his gaze faltering. “Sorry.”

Louis’ head really did start to swim now. He closed his eyes again, bringing his hands up to his face and hiding behind them. He felt a bit like he was going to throw up.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Harry said quietly. “I’m not. Please say something, Lou.”

“Seriously?” Louis eventually said, pulling his hands from his face and looking at Harry, who was still hovering over him. 

“Yeah…” Harry sighed, nodding coyly.

Louis couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Harry was saying. Was he literally serious?! Louis knew deep down when he looked at Harry that he was being completely genuine. That was a bit scary, if Louis was honest.

“How long for?” Louis stuttered.

“Just this year, really.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Louis said, trying his best not to sound harsh. His head was muddled again; he sat up and pushed his fingers into his hair. “Why now?”

Harry hesitated, and Louis stood to his feet, striding straight into Niall’s house and out of the front door, turning towards home and letting his instinct lead him home as he lost himself in his thoughts.

\---

Shit, shit, shit, and shit.

It wasn’t the hangover, or the sun streaming relentlessly through the window, or the cat pawing at his head that caused a dark cloud to settle over Louis’ head as soon as he woke up. It was  _ the thing. _ The bombshell.  _ Harry’s _ bombshell.

He glanced at his phone and had five texts and three missed calls from Harry. He’d deal with that later. He went to the toilet, popped downstairs to make tea and toast and came back to bed. He didn’t intend to move for the whole day, instead choosing to wallow.

He didn’t even know why he wanted to wallow. Sure, he felt like shit; hungover, dehydrated and tired. But as much as he would really like to avoid thinking about Harry and  _ the thing that happened last night, _ Harry kept sneaking into the forefront of his mind and he knew he couldn’t avoid thinking about it forever. He was no more capable of thinking coherently now than he was last night, and he knew thinking through his own thoughts and feelings was something he’d have to force himself to do today.

After he’d eaten, he finally plucked up the courage to read Harry’s texts.

_ “Lou why’d you run off? Please don’t be mad at me :(” _

_ “Louis please reply” _

_ “Or answer the phone!!” _

_ “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything” _

_ “Lou, anytime I’ve been a good friend to you it’s been genuine, please don’t think I did it just to get in your good books just because I like you. I’ll give you space, you know where I am if you wanna talk… Really sorry x” _

Louis exhaled heavily, throwing his phone onto the empty side of his bed. He needed to sort this out, absolutely, but not right now. He needed time to process.

\---

Louis’ mum almost physically dragged him out of bed at 4pm. She was going out and Louis needed to babysit; he was actually looking forward to the distraction, but the kids behaved themselves for once, leaving Louis to watch TV in peace and letting his mind wander into dangerous territory. He decided finally to fetch his phone, putting it on charge and taking a deep breath.

_ “Harry, don’t worry about me love, hope you’re ok and I’ll see you at school tomorrow? We’ll talk soon but I need a bit of space to get my head around this x” _

He put his phone down and his fingers itched to call up one of the other boys. He felt like he wanted to talk this issue out with someone but that probably wasn’t very fair. It was Harry’s business, really, and if he was going to talk about it to anyone, it should be Harry and only Harry.

He was fairly motionless for the rest of the evening, sloping off to bed a mere seven hours after he’d crawled out of it. He was riddled with anxiety about seeing Harry tomorrow; he had no idea what he would say when faced with him and that was terrifying. He was worried he’d say the wrong thing. What was the wrong thing? He still hadn’t decided how he felt about it and that was the worst thing of all.

He didn’t feel much better when he woke up, groggy from a broken sleep and feeling petulant about having to go to school and face his problems. He contemplated pulling a sickie but his mum always saw straight through him.

“Tommo!” Niall shouted cheerfully as soon as Louis stepped foot on school grounds. “Where’d you disappear to the other day?”

“I just went home, Niall.”

“Hey, um...” He said growing serious and moving closer to Louis. “Did you and Harry fall out? He’s acting really weird.”

“Something like that.” Louis replied cryptically. “Have you seen him today?”

“He’s in the art room.”

“ _ Before _ school?”

“Mmhmm.” Niall shrugged. “I told you, he’s being weird.”

Louis’ form room was in the art and science block and he glanced into Harry’s art room as he passed down the corridor. Harry was there, a beanie on his head and paint on his fingers and chin. He was sulking, that much was clear. He was sitting side on from a table, elbow propped on the wood, chin on his palm and his fingers tapping absent-mindedly on his jaw, staring at an easel. 

Louis sped on away to his form room before Harry could see him. He took his seat next to Zayn and immediately, from one pointed look, he could tell Zayn knew.

“Is he okay?” Louis whispered to Zayn as their form tutor took the register. 

Zayn sighed, glancing at Louis.

“Did you  _ have _ to run away from him, Lou? Honestly?”

“Look,” Louis grumbled, pausing when their tutor glanced up, “I was drunk. You guys know how much of a prat I am when I’m drunk.”

“You’re a prat, yeah, you’re not horrible.”

“In my defence, Zayn, how am I supposed to react? I couldn’t think straight. God, I was overwhelmed. I had to put distance between us so I could get my head around what he’d just told me, god, I honestly don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, actually.”

“Well, how do you feel?”

“I don’t  _ know! _ ” He growled.

“Louis!” Their form tutor warned. “Your conversation can wait until break.”

Zayn threw him an annoyed, impatient look and turned away, focusing his attention on looking over his homework.

\---

Zayn obviously meant well but Louis was in a certified bad mood for the rest of the day. He avoided Harry the best he could, heading to the canteen towards the end of the break as he knew Harry would be working on the yearbook then. He saw him in the hall on his way to last period, waving at him but pointedly keeping their distance. When he finally got home, he breathed a sigh of relief.

He made himself a cup of tea in the biggest mug he could find and, since his mum wasn’t home, he sat in the garden to have a cigarette, contemplating his bloody life.

The worst part about it was that he missed Harry. He’d never really gone an entire day without speaking to him and it felt wrong. He needed Harry in his life and today was just increasing the anxiety he’d been feeling for a while, knowing they were going to different universities and going probably months without being together. Thank god he’d have Niall at Manchester uni with him. And Niall was fine, great even, it’s just- he wasn’t Harry.

Harry.  _ His _ Harry. Because that’s what he was to Louis. His. His best friend (even though Harry considered Zayn his best friend, in a lot of ways he was closer to Louis, at least Louis thought so), his other half in many ways. 

He was jerked out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating; it was a text from Harry.

‘ _ Hope you’re ok? Sorry again. Just wanted to let you know I’m going on a family holiday over the summer so you’ll have plenty of space from me x’ _

Louis’ chest tightened; he’d have even less time with Harry before uni and Louis was wasting it avoiding him. This was horrible and stupid.

_ ‘Can we hang out Haz? I miss you!’ _

Thirty seconds later there was a knock on the door and it was Harry.

“I was in the area.” He grinned.

“Come in.” Louis laughed. “You want a cup of tea?”

“Go on, then.”

Louis busied himself making a fresh pot and Harry hovered behind him. There was some kind of fresh, foreign awkwardness between them; a curious tension and Louis hated it.

“I’m sorry I ran off, Harry. I was drunk, I couldn’t think, you know?”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Harry sighed, sounding resigned; Louis stomach lurched uncomfortably. He left the tea to brew and sat down at the kitchen table, Harry sitting opposite him. “I’m just happy we’re talking.”

Louis stared down at his hands, fidgeting and tugging at the sleeves that spilled over his hands. 

“I feel a bit muddled, if I’m honest. I’m trying to get my head around it.” Louis stopped speaking, feeling reluctant to even bring it up; the  _ thing. _ The fact Harry opened his heart up and said such a wonderful, honest thing. Louis couldn’t even open his heart to peek inside of it himself, let alone lay it bare for other people to read, even if that person was Harry. He suddenly had the ridiculous urge to cry; he quickly stood up, going over to pour the tea.

“I’m so sorry, Louis. I should never have blurted it out like that. I suppose it was selfish.”

“Selfish?”

“I didn’t think of you at all. I didn’t think how it’d mess you up, it wasn’t fair.”

Louis glanced back at him, still sitting at the table and looking small and downtrodden. His heart gave a painful lurch.

“It didn’t mess me up, it’s just…” Louis sighed, staring at the worktop. “I don’t know what to say, Harry. I don’t want to lose you, at least not any sooner than I already have to.”

“It’s okay.” Harry said, again sounding resigned and standing up, patting Louis on the back. “You won’t be losing me, okay? Look, let’s just pretend I never said anything.”

Before Louis could respond, Harry quickly made his way to the front door and left without another word, leaving Louis staring down mournfully at Harry’s forgotten cup of tea.

\---

Louis tried his best, but his and Harry’s relationship never quite went back to how it was. Harry had been insanely busy with the yearbook and as Louis promised, he helped him out when he could; in fact, all of the boys pitched in to help and it turned out incredible. Zayn’s artwork gave it the edge, making it the coolest and most aesthetically pleasing yearbook the school had ever had, according to their headteacher. Zayn was extremely proud and the rest of them were proud, too.

And Louis was very, very proud of Harry. Whilst the whole school was praising Zayn for the look of the yearbook, Louis’ heart swelled when he flicked through it, noticing all the tiny touches Harry had put in that he’d worked hard at; layouts and borders that accentuated the right things, the fact Harry had looked long and hard for the right printing company and had personally edited and enhanced every single photo.

“I could never have finished this bloody thing without your help.” Harry sighed, brow furrowed, clutching his copy of the yearbook to his chest. “Thank you, Lou. You’re an awesome friend.”

“I can’t believe you’re going on holiday.” Louis said, leaning against the wall of the main school building, looking out over the playground towards the art and science building. “We’re not even getting our last summer together. The five of us, I mean.”

“You’ll have a great time with the boys.” Harry said, slapping Louis on the back before loosely draping an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t want me around, anyway.”

Louis looked at Harry, frowning.

“I want you around the most.”

\---

They left school. They had graduated; they were grown ups now. Niall and Louis were preparing to go to Manchester university, Zayn to Edinburgh and Harry was headed to Exeter with Liam. They weren’t splitting into five parts at least, but they were splitting up far too much for Louis’ liking.

As much as Louis was pleased to finally be finished with school, he spent his first week of the summer holidays miserable. He couldn’t get his head around what was going on with his life; he had no idea what to expect from uni, didn’t know how much he and Niall would actually see each other and to top it all off, his best friend was in love with him. On Thursday morning, Harry posted a selfie of him and his cat to Facebook, and Louis burst into tears for some reason, crying for the rest of the day, locked in his room. 

He lay facing the wall, staring at his phone screen. The picture made him smile, no doubt about it. Harry was sporting a miniscule grin, his cat Dusty looking at him in disdain. Louis recognised that smile; it was soft, fond, usually only reserved for Harry’s family members. And Louis. Not once had he seen Harry smile like that at one of the other boys, and Louis felt his heart swell at the realisation.

Maybe this had gone far enough. Harry was going on holiday tomorrow and would be back only a week before going off to university. When Louis finally left his room, having a wee and looking at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands, he winced at how puffy his face was. His heart was hurting, his eyes had cried themselves dry and he was as confused as ever. He needed to get out of here. He needed to think.

He returned to his room, pulled on a hoodie and some tracksuit bottoms, pushing his feet into his trainers and wandered out into the street. The weather was as miserable as Louis; rain was falling morbidly and Louis trudged towards god-knows-where. 

As he passed Niall’s house, he tried his absolute hardest not to think about the night that Harry said  _ the thing _ . He felt hot and itchy beneath his hoodie when he remembered lying down on the grass, staring up at the stars and the moment Harry linked their fingers together. Another memory pushed its way into consciousness; last New Year's Eve, the five of them and their other friends at Niall’s for a small party, laughing and drinking and joking around. Harry was flirting with James from the football team. Louis had found himself being particularly impatient and harsh to James for the rest of the year and never really understanding why.

It hit him like a wet fish. He came to a stop a few doors down and sat down on the low wall of Niall’s neighbour’s front garden. Surely he couldn’t have been  _ this _ oblivious for so long?! Liam had even privately called him out for his behaviour towards James and Louis had replied  _ I just don’t like him, okay?  _ He’d ignored his own blatant jealousy, he’d ignored the butterflies when Harry had held his hand and he’d ignored the painfully obvious fact that Harry was basically the other half of him.

Louis abruptly turned on his heel, striding back past Niall’s house and speed-walking the familiar route to Harry’s. He remembered walking the route that night; inebriated and focused on nothing but getting Harry to that party. Maybe he sensed, on some level, how important that day was to become to him. 

When he finally arrived at Harry’s door, he knocked quickly without thinking. He’d been so fixated on getting here as quickly as his feet could carry him, he hadn’t thought about what he was going to say. He couldn’t think straight and honestly, he still couldn’t get his head around exactly how it was that he felt.

“Lou!” Harry said, surprised when he opened the front door. “Oh my god, you’re soaked!”

“Um-”

“Come in!” Harry stepped aside and gestured, urging him inside. “Let’s get you out those wet clothes.”

Louis felt shrunk as he padded up the stairs behind Harry, following him into his room and silently taking the clean clothes he was handed. He went across to the bathroom, pulling on the t-shirt and shorts, inhaling the frighteningly familiar, comforting smell of Harry’s fabric softener. He sighed to himself, eyes squeezed closed. 

When he finally came back into Harry’s room Harry frowned at him, taking the soggy clothes and shooting him a strange look as he left the room.

“I’ll throw these in the tumble dryer.”

When Harry returned, Louis had settled himself on Harry’s bed, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled up against his chest. He was completely out of sorts and now that he was here with Harry. He didn’t know how to feel or behave. He sniffed, looking up at Harry but not daring to make eye contact.

“Are you okay, Lou?” Harry asked, frowning at him for a second before pulling a blanket from his wardrobe, shaking it out and draping it around Louis’ shoulders as he scooted forward slightly.

“I just, uh…” Louis shook himself out of a trance and squinted at Harry, who had settled himself on the bed, opposite Louis with his legs crossed. “I couldn’t let you go off on holiday without us talking. About… you know.”

“Oh.” Harry sighed, shrugging and picking at his duvet. “I thought we were gonna just forget about that?”

“No, Harry.” Louis said softly. “I can’t just forget about it.”

“Louis.” Harry whined, pouting. “Please. This is embarrassing.”

“You  _ had _ wanted to talk about it.”

“That was before you... reacted the way you did.” Harry said quietly. “I was just kind of ready to just... let it go, move on.”

“Well, I can’t do that.” Louis said, shrugging and shifting slightly so he was sitting upright; straight and firm opposite Harry and mirroring his position. “I have feelings too, Harry.”

Harry froze.

“Yeah? What kind of feelings?” He said, barely above a whisper.

Louis hesitated.

“I don’t even entirely know.” He sighed. 

Harry visibly slumped, shifting slightly. He sighed, sounding more resigned than ever and it saddened Louis to his core.

“Louis, look, you’re my best friend. And that’s enough, alright? It’s okay.”

Louis frowned at Harry thoughtfully. He could see in his sad smile that he was lying; they both knew he was lying. No amount of backtracking by Harry would ever take back the thing he said that night and Louis wouldn’t want it any other way. He glanced up at the wall; there was a frame hanging above Harry’s chest of drawers, Louis’ purple and red painting in it. Louis’ mouth went dry.

“No it’s not.” He shook his head. “You know it’s not. It’s not enough for you and it’s not enough for me.”

Louis watched Harry closely as his expression slowly changed; he watched as his face morphed from a sad resignation to a slow, reluctant optimism, raising his eyes to Louis’, pleading and questioning with his gaze.

“What are you saying?” He asked, frowning and looking like he’d be on the edge of his seat if he were on a chair, rather than planted firmly on the bed.

“I don’t know.” Louis shrugged yet again. “What is it you want, Harry?”

“I… um-” Harry stuttered, frowning. “I want you. But I know I can’t have you. It’s just so complicated.  _ Too _ complicated.”

Louis watched Harry for a moment; sighing heavily, Harry was clearly trying to convince himself of the words he was speaking and when Louis didn’t respond straight away, he awkwardly glanced around his bedroom, not looking at anything but clearly getting lost in his own head, eyes starting to well up. Louis sighed inwardly and tilted his head sideways.

“Haz, come  _ on. _ Nothing worth having is easy.” Louis smiled to himself. “Anyway, what’s complicated? You have feelings for me, and I have feelings for you. That’s all that should matter.”

Harry was staring at him, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape.

“Louis, are you serious?”

“I suppose so.” Louis nodded, a small smirk. “I couldn’t let you go away without putting you out of your misery now, could I?”

Harry was still staring wide eyed at Louis, looking like he didn’t dare smile. He crawled towards Louis and pulled him into an awkwardly positioned hug.

“Look,” Louis sighed, “I’m not as emotionally open as you. I’m really sorry I’ve been oblivious to what was staring me in the face. Fate must really be frowning down on me.”

“She probably thinks you’re an ungrateful arse.”

Louis laughed, and something inside of him felt  _ right right right. _

“What’s gonna happen, Lou?” Harry asked, pulling away and dropping back to the bed.

“Well…” Louis wriggled in closer and took Harry’s hand in his. “You really do have the worst timing ever, really.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry sniffed. “But I just didn’t think you felt the same. I just thought that I needed to get it out before we move away from each other.”

“Do you reckon…” Louis cleared his throat. “Can we try it? Being together?”

“I’d love that, Lou… I want to, but we’re-”

“Harry, it’s like, two hours on the train between Manchester and London.” Louis smiled. “We could spend every weekend together if we wanted.”

Harry looked up at him and Louis’ breath caught in his throat. Harry had always been someone who laid bare his emotions but Louis was nonetheless taken aback at how easy he was to read in this moment; written all over his face was the fear of hoping to get everything he wanted, and Louis reckoned he’d almost convinced Harry he could have it all.

“I love you.” The words finally spilled out of Louis’ mouth without any thought, and Harry finally broke into a huge smile.

“I love you, too.”

Louis leaned forward, placing a sweet, chaste kiss to Harry’s lips and Louis reckoned nothing had ever felt more like coming home. 

\---

“Can you  _ please _ stop fidgeting?!” Niall groaned. “God, you’re irritating.”

“Fuck off, Niall.” Louis deadpanned, staring out the window anxiously, staring out at the streets of Exeter. “Give me a break.”

He kept his eyes glued to the window until the coach slowed, his stomach churning as they pulled into the grounds of their opponents’ university.

“Louis, this is an important match.” Niall warned. “You need to pay attention.”

“I will!” Louis rolled his eyes. “Oh, my god! There’s Liam!”

Louis had no shame barging past his teammates to get off of the coach first. He threw himself heavily into Liam’s arms.

“Hello, mate.” Liam laughed, pulling him close. “How’s it going?!”

“Fantastic.” Louis sighed happily. “You’ve been looking after my boy, I hope?”

“Well, he’s been taking good care of himself.” Liam shrugged, his eyes roaming behind Louis as Niall got off the coach. The two boys embraced.

“Where  _ is  _ Harry?” Louis narrowed his eyes. “I told him what time we were getting in.”

“His lectures always bloody overrun. He’s late to  _ everything _ .”

“LOUIS!”

Louis turned around, just in time to brace himself as Harry slammed into him at speed.

“Hello, love.” Louis grinned into Harry’s shoulder. “Keeping well?”

Harry snorted into Louis’ hair. Louis felt a rush of love as he held Harry close; that smell of fabric softener, CKOne aftershave on his neck, fruity conditioner from his hair, which was getting  _ long, _ by the way. When he finally pulled away, Louis beamed at him. He was an absolute vision; truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Well,” Liam sighed, “I hope you boys are ready to get the arse kicking of your life.”

“Liam, please.” Louis smirked, slipping his hand into Harry’s, letting Liam lead the way to the visiting team’s locker room. The rest of their team were long gone. “You talk big for a team at the bottom of the league.”

“Three games into the season, Lou, we’re just settling in!”

Louis scoffed, smirking knowingly to Harry, who just beamed back at him, seemingly content.

\---

Louis talked a big game to Liam but he was very nervous. Not only was he eager to beat Liam’s team, he also wanted to impress Harry.

When Harry had come back from his summer holiday, the two of them spent exactly one week together, eating fish and chips and ice cream, going for walks and to the cinema and Louis trying to teach Harry some football tricks (the least successful part of the week - Harry was all arms and legs and very clumsy) If Louis got one thing out of the week, it was reassurance that he’d made absolutely the right decision. He felt as though things had slotted right into place.

Three months later, and Harry and Louis had only managed one trip each to see the other. Louis hadn’t seen Harry in six weeks and holding his hand now, getting ready to play a match, he could not be happier.

\---

Playing on the opposite team to Liam was  _ weird, _ but Louis rose to the occasion, going out of his way to tackle him to the ground whenever he could, even fouling him at one point. He got a stern talking to by his captain at half time.

Hearing Harry heckling him once again gave him butterflies, and he could hear his screaming cheers when Niall planted the ball in the back of the net; 1-0 to Manchester University and when the final whistle blew, Harry ran down on the pitch to crash into Louis, squeezing him tight and planting a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“Oi!” Liam swatted Harry on the hip. “Support your own bloody school!”

Louis smirked at a downtrodden, muddy Liam. 

“He’s a very supportive boyfriend.” Louis nodded.

“Stop bickering.” Niall said, clapping Liam on the back. “The other boys are going out for a celebratory burger, but I reckon us four go off on our own. What do ya say?!”

“Perfect.” Harry grinned, slipping his hand into Louis’.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! The Tumblr post for this fic is [here](https://catfishau.tumblr.com/post/171882538771/dinosaursmate-drunk-on-one-glass-of-you), if you enjoyed it please give it a reblog! :)


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